


Once Upon A Strip Club

by zerodaysdone



Series: Once Upon A Strip Club [1]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, Human AU, Modern AU, drunk!Jareth, strip club
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerodaysdone/pseuds/zerodaysdone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hoggle bartends at a strip club. Jareth is a dancer at said strip club.  needs to do some character study and ends up at that strip club. It's a wild ride from start to finish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thirteen O'Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah needs to some character study. At a strip club. Hoggle happens to work at one. Girl meets Stripper ensues.

A strip club wasn't the first place Sarah Williams thought she'd end up in. It also wasn't the last. It was probably somewhere in the middle of the list, slightly below a thrift shop and a tad above a sushi store. All things considered, there's worse places to be when you end up in that part of town.

It had started out with a friend and some friendly chit-chat. Howard 'Hoggle' Smith, a friend from college had stopped by for their bimonthly drinks, and as usual, they started talking about this and that. Whatever it is friends talk about (gardening was a popular choice of conversation).It was tradition not to ask about each other's lives until at least round two, and both of them abided nicely to it. The second that Sarah's empty glass hit the table, Hoggle dropped the question

“So, did you get the role or not?”

Sarah paused to glare across the table at the little man, then shook her head, “No. They said they wanted someone with 'more experience' and a 'different mindset.' You know how it is.”

Hoggle snorted and and buried his face in a frilly Pepto-Bismol pink drink, “Idiots, the lot of 'em.”

“Oh, lay off, Hoggle. They were quite nice, even called me in to audition for another part.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“What part, then?”

“Oh, nothing major...”

“Come on, share.”

“Well, if you must know...”

“I must, yes.”

“I'm the stepmother.”

“Aren't you a bit too young?”

“Not really. It's that sort of play?”

“That sort of play?”

“I didn't tell you, did I?”

“Tell me what?”

Sarah smiled smugly, “You know Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

“What of it?”

“You know Cinderella?”

“Well, yes?”

“This play is their bastard child, conceived after one too many margaritas at one too many burlesque shows.”

Hoggle looked like he could use some brain bleach. Lacking that, his pink monstrosity seemed to do quite nicely.

Sarah laughed, “He's kind of big in the local community.”

The man muttered something quiet and vaguely offensive, “So what's your part like, then?”

“One too many plastic surgeries and an overt fondness for young men in speedos and the clubs in which they reside.”

Hoggle sighed. “How's your character study coming along?”

“Well, I'm not sure. Frankly, I don't know where to start, and-”

Looking vaguely pained, Hoggle put up a hand to shut her up, “You want my help?”

“Please!”

“I know just the place...”

***

'Just the place' happened to be a strip club in a very specific part of town where Hoggle just happened to be the bartender. Small world.

“I reserve the right to make terrible jokes about this for a decade,” said Sarah, sliding onto a barstool.

Hoggle scowled at her from across the bar, clambering up onto a stepping stool. They made quite the pair. A young woman, dark hair shining under the pulsing lights, eyes sharp, gaze slightly cynical, worn down but not worse for wear at the end of a long week, and a dwarf, features almost cartoonish but no less real than the next person with a matter of fact air and quick, if heavy, hands.

“I do have to give the place points for the theme, though,” Sarah continued, fluffing up her long black hair, “'The Glass Bauble'? Vaguely Renaissance themed Venetian Carnival erotica?”

“Yeah, yeah. It sells, so they do it,” muttered the dwarf, pulling his apron tight around his waist, “Want me to mix you a drink?”

Sarah nodded.

“Too bad,” said Hoggle, “It's all nonalcoholic. I can get a juice instead.”

“That would be great.”

“Alright,” Hoggle clambered off of his stool, “I'll be a bit. Everyone here's nice. In a certain definition of that word... Go socialize. Mingle. Something. Whatever you do, though, don't talk to Jareth. He's an ass.”

The young actress gave a mocking salute and settled down to watch the crowd mill around. Most patrons (almost completely women) were crowding around the main stage where the expected was happening. The expected being a bunch of scantly clad men getting even more scantly clad by the second. It took some force of will for Sarah to tear her eyes away from the display, but she eventually succeeded, turning her attention to the women around the stage. How they dressed, how they carried themselves, their age, their attitudes, everything she could gleam with a (ha) naked eye.

And so Sarah spent a nice couple of minutes before someone slid onto the stool next to hers, leaning in a bit too close.

“You're watching the wrong thing, love,” that someone said sardonically.

Sarah eyed the man sitting next to her. Sharp cheekbones, bright mismatched eyes, a platinum blond mullet, frilly poet's shirt with cleavage way down low, a pair of very very tight pants, and an accent that spoke of the other side of the pond and Union Jacks.

“Depends what you're here for,” she replied, turning back to the crowd.

“Middle aged housewives with depraved sex lives?”

Sarah raised her eyebrows, “If that's your attitude towards your clientele, I can see why you're not up there working.”

“Strange. That pick up line usually seems to work,” said Mr. Mullet in a vaguely sarcastic monotone.

“Oh, I'm not like most girls,” Sarah said in an overly breathy voice, putting a hand to her heart.

“I can see that,” smirked the man, “Allow me to introduce myself. I'm the Goblin King.”

“That's got to be a euphemism for something,” muttered Sarah.

“Probably. Now this is the part where you introduce yourself, I say something witty, and you fall in love with me and stuff singles down my pants.”

“Hi, Goblin King, my name's Jennifer, and I'd need to break a ten first,” said Sarah, giving up on all hopes of crowd watching.

“How cheap,” said the Goblin King, sliding his hand onto Sarah's knee, “Might there be anything more likely to make you give me the ten outright?”

The woman thought about it for a moment and settled with tilting her head to the side. “What, is it a slow night for you?”

The Goblin King shrugged, “My slot's not until later, I got here a bit early, and you seemed like an easier customer than what you turned out to be.”

The actress let out a snort, “Alright then, amuse me.”

The man gave Sarah a slow once over from under hooded eyes, slipped his hand off her leg, and snapped his fingers. The gesture was followed by a complicated flick of his wrist, and the Goblin King proudly presented a crystal ball. Long, white gloved fingers sent the crystal dancing around, bobbing over and around his hand. Gently, he produced another crystal and added it to the first. The patterns grew more and more complex. The glass spheres caught the glare of the club lights, muting the multitude of colors and bouncing them around. Another ball was added, and the spinning and weaving grew hurried and frantic, reflections a blur, one crystal barely distinguishable from another. Until it stopped. Absent of fanfares and pomp, the devilish spirals simply stopped. Finished. Ended.

The Goblin King placed the crystals on the bar with a gentle clunk and turned to grin at Sarah, whose eyes were still locked on his spindly fingers, mouth agape, trying to shake off the remnants of the entrancing performance.

Once she came to, Sarah whipped out her wallet in a businesslike fashion and slapped a ten down on the table in front of the spheres.

“Nice to know at least one man here knows how to handle his balls,” she said.

The Goblin King bared his teeth, “Do you have any idea how many times I've heard that joke.”

“Well, you haven't heard it from me, so take the compliment.”

“That's not fair.”

“You're welcome.”

They sat in silence for a few moments until the Goblin King started glancing around the room. After a couple of quietly frustrated moments, he turned to Sarah, “Mind telling me what time it is?”

“There's a clock right there,” said Sarah, waving at the wall above the bar, “Three whole clocks, actually.”

“Fat lot of good they do, just tell me the time.”

What a spoiled brat. Sarah glanced down at her watch, “Ten forty five.”

The man sighed and slipped to his feet, collecting the balls off the table and hiding them... somewhere, “Pleasure doing business with you, lovely conversation, got to run. Good bye, Jennifer.”

“Bye, Goblin King.”

“If you stay until eleven, you'll catch my dance.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“I live to serve.”

The stripper gave a mocking salute and made his way to one of the side doors, no doubt leading to the changing room.

Sarah watched him go. Well, mainly she watched his ass go, but that was almost the same thing in this situation. Sighing wistfully, she turned back to the bar and came face to face with Hoggle.

“I told you not to talk with Jareth and here we are,” grumbled the dwarf, slamming down a peach-flavored soft drink.

“Can't see why you don't like him,” Sarah said, “He has a lovely personality.”

“And an even lovelier bod, I'm aware.”

“Why Hoggle, I never thought I'd hear you say that word!”

“What, 'lovelier'?”

“No, 'bod.'”

“Well, this place has the tendency to wear off on you.”

Sarah hummed in agreement and looked up at the clocks above the bar. The hands on them were gone, and each had thirteen hours.


	2. Magic Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jareth pole dances.

“How come he got so chummy with you anyways?”

Sarah opened up the peach Snapple that Hoggle had handed her, “Chummy?”

“Oh, come on. He took his balls out!”

Sarah grinned at him over the bottle, “Good one, isn't it?”

“Oh yes,” said Hoggle smugly, “It infuriates him too. Bastard almost punched me once. As far as first times, yours was peachy keen”

“Wonderful. What was your first time with him like, Hoggle?” asked Sarah, tilting her head back and squinting at her friend..

“Work-centric,” said the dwarf, ignoring the (at that point unoriginal) innuendo, “He's usually pretty terrifying, but I just can't take him seriously in those pants.”

“Hear-hear,” said Sarah, raising her Snapple in the air.

“Anyways, the first time I met him-” started Hoggle, but was cut off by the loud speaker.

_“And now, ladies, may we present, the Goblin King!”_

“That's a story for later,” grinned Hoggle, “Watch that stage. You'll thank me later.”

Sarah obliged, mainly out of curiosity. The lights had dimmed, plunging the club into near-darkness. The room fell silent. Softly at first, but getting louder and louder, music started playing. The lights on the stage faded into a warm brightness and a puff of glitter and feathers flew down from the ceiling onto the Goblin King. Sarah couldn't bring herself to call him Jareth, especially in that atmosphere. He stood, stock still, back to the audience, mullet sparkling and shirt billowing slightly.

 _Oh no, oh no..._ wailed a male voice as the man slowly shed his shirt, letting the fabric ripple to the ground to the joyous yelling of the crowd, followed by a pair of leather gloves.

_You'll never make me stay so take your weight off of me_   
_I know your every move, so won't you please let me be_   
_I've been here times before but I was too blind to see_   
_That you seduce every man, this time you won't seduce me._

The Goblin King gave a little twirl towards the audience, letting fly a puff of glitter. Hands down at his sides, he took a few seductive steps forward, maintaining a mocking sort of eye contact with the crowd. With a couple of slow, slick, movements he slinked over to one of the poles, back up against it, hand sliding down to his crotch. Then, one arm reached up towards and grasped the pole with the other leisurely following as he spins around to press his entire body against the metal, somehow managing to to smudge his almost drag-like make up. Almost lazily, as if doing the audience a favor, he gave a little spin around, earning himself an uneven chorus of whoops. With a body roll, the Goblin King took a few steps back, sliding his hands down to his groin. The tight pants left almost nothing to the imagination.

_She's saying that's ok, hey baby do what you please_   
_I have the stuff that you want, I am the thing that you need_   
_She looked me deep in the eyes, she's touchin' me so to start_   
_She says there's no turnin' back, she trapped me in her heart._

A clever sort of jig. A pause, a finger jabbed at someone in the audience. A wink. Another couple of steps. Another wink. Both hands going for the crotch, then a hand flung out to the side, followed by a spin, smoothly transitioning into splits. Both hands stretched out towards the ceiling, letting loose another puff of glitter. Equally parts amused and turned on, Sarah couldn't bear to look away.

_Dirty Diana, no, Dirty Diana, no_   
_Dirty Diana, no, Dirty Diana, let me be!_   
_Oh no... Oh no... Oh no..._

Hands dropped down, supporting the Goblin King as he moved his hips up in a couple of fluid motions. One leg slid out and around, letting the man stretch across the floor, humping the floor a couple of times before stretching out with feline grace, ass up, arms tense in front of him.

Almost magically, the man's eyes found Sarah's in the crowd, and a slow grin spread over his face. Eyes hooded, he dug his fingers into the flowing platinum locks. Still sitting, knees spreading and then snapping back together in time to the music, the Goblin King humped the air, earning a round of appreciative hooting from the crowd. A couple of rather graceful movements got him over to the nearest pole, and he reached up, grasping the pole, pulling himself up, spinning around, climbing higher and higher, bending backwards, flirting with the crowd, milking it for all the drama it was worth.

_She likes the boys in the band, she knows when they come to town_   
_Every musician's fan after the, curtain comes down_   
_She waits at backstage doors for those who have prestige_   
_Who promise fortune and fame, a life that's so carefree..._

Slipping back towards the floor, he maneuvered his body so that the audience could see his face. Well, and his chest. The whole... package. And fell into elegantly tumbling circles around the the pole, before coming to a full stop right in front of the audience. One hand reached higher and the other reached lower, way lower, grabbing his inner thigh and thrusting up, rolling his hips to the shouts of the women.

_She's says that's ok, hey baby do what you want_   
_I'll be your night lovin' thing, I'll be the freak you can taunt_   
_And I don't care what you say, I want to go too far_   
_I'll be your everything if you make me a star._

Almost robotic movements of a smooth, somehow still natural, dance. He moved in a perfect trance, choreography flawless, movements precise and seductive. Well planned out and quick to receive all sorts of approval from the audience. Every inch of exposed skin glistened with golden sparkles ans sweat, tantalizing, drawing in.By this point, Sarah had forgotten all about her drink, hypnotized by the almost magic dance of the man on the stage.

_Dirty Diana, no, Dirty Diana, no_   
_Dirty Diana, no, Dirty Diana, let me be!_   
_Oh no... Oh no... Oh no..._

The Goblin King stalked over to the pole that had gone untouched for most of the performance and climbed up in a series of quick spins, expertly maneuvering around the bar, dipping and swerving. Abruptly, he let go and slid to the ground, crouching, and slowly getting back up, hips the only thing in contact with the pole. After a quick smile at the crowd, he flung himself away, towards the center of the stage, spun around once, twice, three times, ending up with his back to the crowd. Legs crossed, arms flung out, letting loose a cloud of glitter as the music cut off and the stage went dark.

The crowd erupted in animalistic noises, hooting and screeching and yelling and whooping.

Sarah Williams let go of a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and took a long drink of her Snapple and slamming it down on the table, hard.

“That's just not fair,” she croaked, blinking slowly.

“I know,” said Hoggle in a rather matter of fact tone, “That glitter's going to be a pain to clean up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Jareth dances to is Dirty Diana and the video where I got most of the dance from is right here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QShbVV2vLUA .


	3. Hallucination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jareth's drunk. Hoggle's a little shit. Sarah's very nice.

Midnight had long passed, morning hadn't yet deigned the Earth with its presence, and everything was lethargic bordering on comatose. The traffic, the stars, the lights, the closing strip club, everything had slowed to a crawl. Sarah stood idly outside of the employee entrance of the Glass Bauble, waiting for Hoggle to finish cleaning up so she could give him a lift home.

The dancers, so glamorous on stage, lost a good portion of their sex appeal as they trickled out the door, giving her a nod or a wave as they passed by. Most ignored her. Every single one looked exhausted. The bags under their eyes seemed almost as heavy as the ones that they carried on their shoulders. But soon the dancers too disappeared.

Sarah's phone vibrated once, twice, and she gave it a glance.

_From Hoggle: 8 more mins. Boss is a slave drive_

The woman sighed and slipped the phone back into her purse, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. She knew very well how this would go. Five minutes had turned into eight, eight into ten, ten into twenty, and then Hoggle would end up catching a ride with someone else because she wasn't going to be stuck out here all night, dammit.

But before Sarah could proceed to fully embrace her sulking, the employee door flew open.

“Hoggle! You're out already!” said Sarah, stepping forward towards the door and was greeted by a tall form that most definitely wasn't Hoggle.

“'m not Hogbrain,” slurred the man, leaning forward at an angle that no sober person could ever accomplish.

“Jareth!” groaned Sarah, staggering under the full weight of the dancer.

“Don't 'member telling you my name,” said Jareth, “ _Jessica._ No. Jennifer? No...”

Sarah sighed, sitting the drunk man down. Gone was the immaculate silvery mullet and with it, the animalistic allure the man had radiated on stage. He looked so... mundane. Well, mundane wouldn't be the right word. He was still wearing the same frilly shirt he had earlier, but the disturbingly tight pants had been replaced with a worn pair of jeans. His make up was smeared, but still distinct. High eyebrows and glittering hooded lids that seemed a good deal puffier than they had before. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut bread (or a steak) were shimmered with smears of blush. His feet were bare, in one hand he clutched a half-empty bottle of vodka.

“You're a mess.”

“Didn't ask for your opinion. Don't need it. I'm the Goblin King!”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “You're drunk.”

“'m not.”

“Are too.”

“'m not.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two! I'm drunk, not  _blind_ !”

“So, you are drunk!” said Sarah triumphantly, putting down one finger.

“Fuck,” Jareth yelled, voice echoing through the small parking lot.

“Quiet down,” hissed Sarah swatting at the dancer's arm.

“Make me,” said Jareth, patting her on the cheek and taking a long drink from his bottle.

“Ok, you've definitely had enough,” said Sarah grabbing at the bottle.

“No!” whined the man, moving his hand out of reach, “'m drowning my sorrows!”

“What sorrows?! Your pants weren't tight enough?”

“How did you know?” came the bitterly sarcastic answer, “Don't trifle with me! I'm tired, pissed, pissed off, nauseous, and am going home to an empty and cold apartment, so let me be!”

“Oh, you're not going anywhere in that state,” said Sarah, “Now hand me that bottle.”

“No,” said Jareth.

Sarah paused.

“Alright, _Goblin King._ Either we do this the nice way or the hard way.”

“And what, pray tell, is the nice way?”

“We play a game-”

“Fantastic. A game. What's next, you stick a pacifier in my mouth?!”

Sarah opened her mouth to say something rude but didn't have time to, because that's when Jareth threw up.

“Ugh! Disgusting!”

“Well, I'm not nauseous anymore,” shrugged Jareth and took a swig.

Not for the first time in her night, Sarah stared at the man and started rethinking her life choices.

“Alright, up you go,” she said, finally managing to get ahold of the bottle and tossing it across the lot, “We're getting you home. Let's go get you a taxi.”

“Don't have any money,” mumbled Jareth, burying his head in the crook of Sarah's neck.

“You are... a very affectionate man,” said Sarah, tilting his head away, “Who has at least ten dollars.”

“The little shit took it,” he said.

“Took your money?”

“Took my entire bag and LEFT. For the entire weekend! That's just not fair, Jay. It's simply not fair. ”

“Who left?” said Sarah, slowly but surely dragging the man around the puddle of vomit and down the steps.

“The... goblin... little... cousin? Cousin. That's the word. My things are in his car. And he left. The gremlin left town with my shit. He's barely old enough to drive! ”

“I can pay for your taxi, pretty boy. Where do you live?”

“In a building. On a floor. In a city. Definitely under the sky.”

“You don't remember your address.”

“That was my second bottle of vodka, what do you expect?”

“We're halfway across the lot, and you couldn't have told me that before?!”

“I don't want your help! I don't even know you!”

“Yeah, you're a lot better acquainted with that vodka bottle!”

“I am. Very well acquainted. We're bosom companions. Friends. All that wonderful fluff that I don't have!”

Sarah dumped Jareth onto the ground, “Sit. Stay. Good boy.”

Jareth quietly grumbled to himself, but sat there on the hard concrete, more out of boneless exhaustion that obedience.

Once satisfied that he wasn't going to move, Sarah pulled out her phone and dialed Hoggle.

“Hoggle?”

_“Sarah!”_

“Sarah!?” yelped Jareth, but got glared into silence.

_“Who is that?”_

“That is your friend, Jareth,” said Sarah with exaggerated cheer.

Over the line, Hoggle groaned, _“First off, he's not my friend. Second off, he's pissed, isn't he?”_

“Yes, he's pissed. Two bottles? Two bottles, Hoggle?” Sarah pinched the bridge of his nose.

_“I told you, we don't carry alcohol-”_

“Bullshit.”

Silence. A heavy sigh. Then, _“The dancers were having a little get together after the end of the show. They brought some stuff in, had some fun. One of them was supposed to be his ride, but he left. They're related, I think. Distantly.”_

“I know. What I meant to ask is, what do I do with this glitter-puff?”

“I object to that description!” Jareth wailed, sprawled across the concrete.

_“I don't know. Leave him there. No one's going to miss him. He'll sleep it off, catch a bus tomorrow.”_

“But what if...” Sarah glanced down at the man on the ground and lowered her voice, “What if he gets mugged? Or beat up? Or freeze? It's cold out here! He's barefoot. Aren't you at all worried?”

A pause,  _“No. Why are you?”_

“I don't know, I can't just leave him here!”

_“Your problem.”_

“Fine, then you can walk home. I'm taking him over to my place.”

_“Be sure to use protection.”_

“Bye, Hoggle.”

Sarah put her phone away and crossed her arms, looking down at the dancer slouching at her feet. Jareth, in turn, looked up at her, eyes blank, face expressionless.

“Am I going to get laid?” he slurred mournfully.

“Not tonight,” Sarah said, dragging the man to his feet, “You're going to get a ride to my apartment, some sleep, and then a ride to wherever it is you live.”

“Well, shit.”

“Life just isn't fair, is it?”

“Not in the slightest.”

***

The ride back to the apartment elapsed in everything but silence.

“If you throw up in my car,” Sarah warned as she shoved Jareth into the front seat and buckled him up, “I'm dumping you on the side of the road.”

“My hero,” groaned Jareth, throwing his head back against the headrest and yelping as the two made contact.

“Shut up.”

“Ooh, the heroine is out of witty remarks! The repartee is over!”

“Shove it, Goblin King.”

Jareth sniffed, “Maybe I will.”

“Will you?”

“I will.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

There were a couple of moments of blissful silence as Sarah pulled out of the almost empty lot. And then Jareth started singing. It was quiet at first, a few quietly hummed lines of a smooth melody which picked up and grew louder and louder, a jumble of halves of words and random sounds.

“That's pretty,” said Sarah conversationally.

Jareth threw her a sidelong glance, opened his mouth, and started belting out lyrics in a screechy, off-pitch, voice, “NO ONE CAN BLAME YOU! FOR WALKING AWAY!”

“Jesus Christ!” yelled Sarah, almost crashing into the car in front of them.

“No, it's me, Jareth.”

“Just-”

“TOO MUCH REJECTION, NU-UH! NO LOVE INJECTION...”

***

“Two steps to the left... A little bit further...” coaxed Sarah, “There we go.”

Sarah maneuvered her arms around the drowsy man clinging to her neck, unlocked the door, and practically fell inside.

“Well, this is the place,” she said, giving it a bleak look, “Let's get you to the couch.”

The apartment was small, but cozy. Sarah dragged Jareth across the carpet to plop him down on a couch with a print reminiscent of grandma's curtains. The man almost fell over as the passed the desk, but somehow managed to stay upright until Sarah dumped him on the couch.

“'s soft,” murmured the man, burying his face in an armrest.

“Don't fall asleep,” called Sarah as she walked over towards the kitchen, returning a couple of moments later with a full glass of water.

“Drink,” she ordered.

“Women are so fickle and changeable,” complained Jareth, taking the glass, “One moment it's 'stop drinking!' The next moment it's 'drink!'”

“Jareth.”

“Yes,  _Jessica_ ?”

“That's water.”

“Oh.”

Jareth drank.

***

Later, just as Sarah was turning off the lights, Jareth rolled around to face her.

“Sarah?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Thank me in the morning, Goblin King.”


	4. Home At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jareth comes to.

It was around one in the afternoon when Jareth came to, and Sarah was sitting at her desk in the living room, hair still damp from the shower, soft bathrobe surrounding here. It was from that position that she was treated to the full beauty of the hungover dancer coming to.

First, there was groaning, and a muttered, “If this is actual ass I can taste, I swear to...”

Then, upon realizing that this was not his home at all, the man flailed end fell off the couch, swearing as his head hit the floor. Quickly as he could, he scrambled up and started wildly looking around, before meeting Sarah's amused gaze and blushing bright red.

“Sleep well?” the woman asked, running her fingers through her hair.

Jareth looked mortified, “Did we...?”

“No,” said Sarah, turning back to her computer, “You want breakfast?”

The dancer said nothing for a couple of seconds and simply stood there, rubbing glitter from his cheeks until he seemed to realize that she had said something.

“I have to apologize for any inappropriate behavior last night,” he said stiffly, starting to inch towards the door.

“The only inappropriate thing you did was get drunk out of your mind by yourself, with no shoes and no money,” said Sarah, swiveling her twirly chair to watch him limp across the room.

“That is none of your business,” said Jareth starting to open the door, “I am none of your business.”

“Making a run for it?” asked Sarah amicably, “Do you want a ride?”

“I'm alright, thank you, and yes, yes I am.”

Jareth flung open the door and took a step into the hallways, then froze.

Sarah tilted her head to the side in amusement.

The man looked to the left, looked to right, stared straight forward and let out a shriek of indignation.

“WHAT?!”

“What?” asked Sarah, rushing over see what the problem was. The hallway was empty. All the doors except hers were closed.

“That's...” Jareth pointed to the door across the hall from Sarah's, “That..”

“Is a door,” said Sarah patiently, “To an apartment. That an ass who plays insanely loud music at two AM moved into last month.”

“That's my apartment!” hissed Jareth, putting his head in his hands, “Jesus Christ.”

“No, it's me, Sarah,” said the woman sarcastically.

“Sarah?” Jareth turned to look at her in confusion, “Didn't you say...”

“I lied,”Sarah shrugged, turning back into her apartment, “And so did you. ”

“I'm a stripper, I have an excuse.”

Sarah snorted, “Just get you ass in here and close the door. You don't have a key on you, anyways. We can call the super later.”

Sulkily, Jareth closed the door, “How did you know?”

“I checked.”

“Did you now? And where, pray tell, did you check?” said Jareth slyly, cocking an eyebrow.

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

“I would, actually. Very much. Did the irresistible sex appeal of my tight pants draw you in? Or was it my charming personality?”

Sarah shook her head, laughing lightly, “Come on, Goblin King. Sit down, I'll make you breakfast. Well, lunch, but those are technicalities.”

For a second, Jareth looked like he was about to bolt.

Sarah rolled her eyes, “No point in running. Sit down and take your fate like a man.”

Jareth obeyed, but not without giving Sarah a dirty once over, “There's other things here I'd like to take as a man.”

“Like a shower?”

“...among other things.”

“Goblin King, do me a favor.”

“Anything, love.”

“Shower and coffee first, innuendos later.”

The dancer obliged, and that was the end of the first of many meetings to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this is going to be the first in a short series of drabbles in this same verse. I don't know yet. Anyways. Thank you for reading!


	5. As embarrassing as this is.... (not an actual chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do i explain this lmao....
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10224847/3/Once-Upon-A-Strip-Club

So this isn't an actual chapter, I'm just letting you guys know that way back when I was first writing this, I figured that fanfiction.net was a better place for this quality and type of fanfic, so I posted everything I have there. I would crosspost it here, too, but. But. My laptop crashed, so I don't have any of the files and I cannot for the life of my remember which email I used for my fanfiction account, so. Um. Yeah.

 

TLDR: The link to the completed fanfic is in the description and I'm so sorry.


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